Epilogue
EIGHT MONTHS LATER
“W e have five minutes until we have to cut the cake, or Koty will hunt us down and snap our necks.”
“Fuck that,” Ford murmurs, kissing his way across my mouth, causing my knees to go weak. “I’m takin’ my damn time with my wife.”
I smile against his lips. Wife . It’s a dream.
Our wedding was a dream, too. Earlier today, we had a family-only ceremony on the cliffs overlooking Runaway Ranch. Waylon Jennings played as I glided toward Ford with bluebells in my hair.
Now, our brand-new Georgia farmhouse plays host to our wedding reception.
But the reception is the last thing on my mind.
I can only think about Ford and his broad hands running over my arms. His amber eyes glassy as he kisses me breathless.
I moan, tearing my hands through his lionlike hair. I’m ready. So damn ready.
Roughly, Ford shoves my short dress—my beautiful designer dress that I spent a fortune on—up over my hips. He pins me to the wall in the first-floor guest bathroom. So damn hot. So damn illicit, fucking in the bathroom when a few dozen people are outside waiting for us.
“Fuck me, ruin me,” I gasp as my husband’s mouth plunders mine. My frantic hands dip lower, unbuckling his pants and freeing his cock.
Gaze dipping to mine, he grins. His eyes are dark, drugged, hungry for me. “Turn around.” With that order, he spins me to face the bathroom wall. A pleased groan tears from his lips. “Christ, baby.”
I smile. He’s spotted my lacy pink panties with his name embroidered on the cheek.
“You’re all mine, Birdie Girl,” he growls, kissing his way down my neck. “Just keep your eyes on me and take it. I’ll handle the rest.”
“Yes, yes,” I breathe.
His hand lands a short, hard slap on my ass.
A rumble shakes out of him.
“Watching this luscious ass turn pink is what I dream of, baby.”
I moan, and he moves closer.
Arms and legs entwined.
Hearts in sync.
And then he’s inside of me. Hard. Hot.
I gasp, clenching around him, lost in the rhythm of his warm, heavy body.
A rap on the door. “Ford. You in there?”
I squeeze my eyes shut, arching against him. “Faster.”
Ford grits his teeth, pumps away. “You’re dead, Wyatt.”
A chuckle as bootsteps fade.
“Birdie, I’m the luckiest man in the world,” Ford groans deeply as he buries himself to the hilt. I whimper as he slams into me. Healing me. Loving me. “I love you so fucking much. I’ll give you anything you want. Anything.”
I close my eyes, tears streaming down my cheek.
He already has.
From traveling with me to Nashville to set up the indie record label with Geneva Scott to building the home we dreamed of together, complete with my own studio, Ford’s given me it all.
His voice breaks. “Promise me, I have you. Promise me you’re mine.”
I grip the gold necklace around my throat. “This is us, Ford. Forever.”
I belong to him—heart, body, and soul.
It overtakes us at the same time. That clench in our gut, that full-body electric ripple. We come together, me half-gasping, half-weeping as he roars his release into my neck.
We burn wild and free.
Minutes later, we head down the hallway. I wiggle across the room to cut the cake, doing my best to hold back laughter. I can still feel Ford’s handprint on my ass.
Soon, the cake is cut, and the toasts are made. Our new house hums with life—great music, loud conversation, and so many friends and family that my heart wants to burst. Everything is perfect. Above us, the angled wooden beams are strung with glittering lights, and blush garden roses fill the house. The antique dining table is covered in various desserts, courtesy of The Huckleberry.
Amidst the chaos, I spy my parents.
“Hi,” I say, sneaking up behind my mom to give her a side hug. “Are you surviving the madness?”
“Reese, honey,” she breathes, hugging me back. “We are. How about you? Are you eating enough? Do you need anything? Did you manage to pee in that dress?”
I chuckle at her motherly fussiness. Ever since we made contact, Bonnie Austin has sent me texts every morning and every night just to make sure I’m doing okay.
My father grunts. “I’m sure she’s just fine, Bonnie. It’s her wedding day.” Morgan Austin stands stoically, arms crossed. I can barely make out the grin beneath his thick blond beard, but it’s there. Green eyes softening, he flashes me a grin before reaching out to squeeze my shoulder. “Still not too late to run.”
I laugh, smiling up at them. It’s been the greatest gift in the world to have my parents back in my life. Though we’ve taken our time getting to know each other, we’re in a good place. Being away from my parents was like a missing puzzle piece, and now I feel whole. They’re still the same parents who kissed my skinned knees and showed me every chord on a guitar. I love them. They tried to do something selfless to help me, but it ended up backfiring because of Gavin. But we have many more years to get it right.
“I’m having a blast,” I tell them both. “I hope you are, too.”
“We are.” My mother’s lower lip trembles as she drops her hand to mine. She squeezes, sniffling. “We’re so honored that we’re here. That we…” She looks at my father, whose eyes are surprisingly shiny with tears. “Get to see this.”
I shake my head, feeling my own eyes heating. “Don’t, Mom. Please.”
My father takes a sip of his beer and clears his throat, trying to sound gruffer than he looks. “Bonnie, honey, you already had your tears today.”
“No more crying,” I order with a smile. “It’s party time.” Stepping between them, I give them each a kiss on the cheek, and then I’m off.
After making a lap around the house to greet our guests, I wander into the kitchen. Dakota sits on a barstool at the island with her newborn, Lainie, in her arms. Her peony pink bridesmaid dress is a mess of rumpled silk.
“How’s she holding up?” I ask, peeking over her shoulder. The newborn has Dakota’s raven hair and Davis’s stern expression.
Dakota smiles. “I think she’s as tired as me.”
I move around the island and face her. “How are you holding up?”
Her smile falls. “I’m okay. Fallon should be here,” she says, her voice quivering. She looks down at her daughter. “She’s missed so much.”
“I know,” I say, my heart aching for her.
The rest of the Montgomery brothers crash into the kitchen with plates of cakes in their hands. Ruby bounces in behind them, delicate flowers in her hair.
“What are you all doing?” Dakota asks, covertly wiping her face.
Wyatt shoves a hunk of cake into his mouth. “Hiding out from the adults.”
“Hate to break it to you, Wy, but we are the adults,” Davis says dryly, feeding Dakota cake while she juggles their squirming newborn.
Mouse, wearing a tiny tuxedo suit, saunters across the hardwood floor.
“Now I’ve seen everything,” a deep voice drawls.
“Grady!” Spinning around, I throw myself into Grady’s arms. “You made it.”
“Hell, three planes later, and I’m finally here.” He squeezes me tight as he’s rocked by hearty backslaps from his big brothers. “Wouldn’t miss it for the world.”
The world—he gave it all to me the night he sent me to Runaway Ranch.
A frazzled world, but a happy, beautiful world, nonetheless.
I have everything.
A man who loves me more and more every day. My new album, bluebird , debuted at the top of the charts last week. Ford’s school opens in a month. Ford and I—we’re moving at ninety-five miles per hour, but unlike my life a year ago, it’s my choice.
Emmy Lou, Ford’s sister, rushes through the kitchen. “Three down, two to go,” she chirps triumphantly before racing after one of her twin daughters.
Grady laughs and swoops up Duke. Wyatt settles onto a bar stool and stares into an empty beer glass.
My cheeks heat at the sight of Ford in the open door, taking us all in. He’s so damn handsome.Long and lean, my golden-haired broody country boy is a sight to see.
His gaze lands on me. “Checking me out?” Looking deliriously happy, he flashes the gold band on his finger. “Sorry to say, I’m a married man.”
My lips quirk and I bat my eyes. “Lucky girl.”
Ford whistles, getting the attention of his brothers. “On the field, assholes,” he drawls, rolling up his cuffs.
“You ain’t serious,” Charlie groans, tucking Ruby under his arm.
“As a heart attack.” He flashes me a grin and pumps his arm. “We got to break this baby in. Get ready to feel that 100 mph heat.”
“Cocky bastard,” Charlie grumbles.
With that, Ford takes my hand, and we herd our family and friends onto the rustic wooden deck. My breath hitches at the otherworldly view. While Charlie and Ruby have a pasture, we have a baseball field. Green and lush, lit up by the glow of stadium lights, it’s beautiful.
Ford still plans to work at the ranch this summer, but his baseball camp opens in July. He’s also signed up to coach Resurrection’s Little League team in the fall, before going on tour with me later this year. Like I said, our plates are full. I wouldn’t have it any other way.
We all assemble on the field. Ford gives directions, splitting us into two teams. Bride versus Groom. Ruby sits in a director’s chair, keeping score.
I slam a fist into my mitt and dance around Ford. My wedding ring glints in the sunset. The massive diamond could put an eye out, but the band with a small bluebird etched on the side is simple and perfect. “You’re goin’ down, Country Boy.”
“Later, baby,” he rasps, running his broad hands down the tight bodice of my dress. He wiggles his brows. “Save that for later.”
We take our positions. Ford pitches. The game is chaos and commotion. No one knows what they’re doing. Keena chases the ball as Lainie screams her adorable heart out. Charlie and Wyatt argue over a stolen base.
It’s everything I’ve ever wanted.
For the fifth time today, tears fill my eyes.
It’s been nearly a year since Gavin tried to destroy everything.
But he didn’t win.
I did.
Therapy, medicine, love, the ranch—it brought me back. Sometimes life is still hard, and some days I fight a silent battle with that black hole, but Ford is always there. He chases my dreams like they are his own. Treats my wounds like they’re his own. He’s not my cure, but he is a help. Because he understands. He stays. And that’s all I need.
He’s my rock and I’m his peace.
And together, whatever life throws our way, we take it together.
The sound of a whistle signals game over .
My husband spins around on the pitcher’s mound and gives me the biggest grin.
I fly at Ford and he catches me in his arms like he always has. He picks me up, lifting me into the air and twirls me around.
“You look like you love me, Country Boy,” I drawl, cupping his cheek.
“Rest of my life,” Ford says, his voice low and choked. “Rest of my life, Birdie Girl.”